Random Depressing Stories

Psychotic Pt.1

I knew this would happen. This is my fault. I didn't do this. Well I did but I don't wanna believe that I actually did this. I killed her. I fucking did it. I killed her. . .

My heart is beating fast and my lungs hurt. I'm racing down the street sirens behind me. Fuck. I really messed up this time. I don't feel like taking it back. I don't need to take it back. She fucking deserved it. I'm still running.

The sirens are getting close. I jump a fence panting hard. I jump down and stumble on an account of my weak legs. God I hate my body. No time to think about that just run. Fuck I can't. I sit down and rest my head on the back of a dumpster.

"This is the police! Stand up slowly and put your hands up!" I groan and start to stand. I hear guns click. I shudder at the thought of being shot. I stand slowly and raise my hands. I hear footsteps behind me and I let them take me to the ground. I grunt as my head hits the concrete.

My vision blurs. Fuck.

wake up... Wake up... WAKE UP!

I jolt and try to move but I'm strapped to a gurry. I hear sirens. I'm in an ambulance. Fuck... Where the fuck am I going? I don't see a cop in the ambulance with me. Am I not in trouble? I struggle against my wrist restraints. Of course nothing works. I can't get out.

Damnit. "Where are you taking me?" I question in a low voice. The Emt just looks at me and ignores me. "Did you not hear me? Where the fuck am I going?" I ask again and again nothing. I roll my eyes and lay back again. I don't know where I am going. Maybe Juvi.

I- wait, what. I can't fucking remember. Who, where, what, why? Did I actually kill her. Yes, yes I did. No. Wait, yes. No. YES. NO. Fighting within my head. I breathe out a long hot breath. I calm down and try not to think about it. Am I going somewhere worse than jail? God damn it.

I lay staring at the dim lights. It is black outside. The windows are tinted. I can't see anything. Fuck. Ok calm, calm yourself. I turn my head to the thick plastic cabinets. I look at the different medical supplies trying to distract myself.

The ambulance slows down and parks. I try to look out the window with no prevail as to seeing anything. The doors open and there is a large building. Windows and more windows. No bars on the windows. No barbed wire. No razor wire. No search towers. No big walls. Nothing.

Just 2 large hospital looking buildings. The doors open and the Emt gets up. He hops out and pulls the gurry. The feet and wheels kick out and the gurry lands on the ground with a small thud. Once I look up I see it. Mental Hospital.

What the fuck? Did I do something else? Am I ok? I feel fine. Am I fine? I don't know. Damn. Am I having a nightmare? I still have the blood in my hair and on my clothes. The gurry gets taken in after they take my temp. I'm only 16.

I look at all the doors. Everyone is locked. It smells weird here. A mix of cleaning supplies and people. All different people. It's like 9pm. A nurse comes up to a door once the gurry comes to a stop. She opens the door with a scan of her card.

I get taken in and I see a few other kids. They don't look much older or younger than me. I stare at them and they look at me like I am not human. "Is that blood on her clothes?" "What did she do?" I hear whispers. Only one girl catches my attention. A short girl with dark brown or auburn hair and half her head shaved. Her eyes set on me and I smile at her.

It feels weird smiling right now considering I am covered in blood. Is that attractive to her? Maybe. I don't mind this person staring at me. She's cute. Hmm. I feel my arms become free. Then my legs. Then the rest of my body. I stand up and stretch. Dried blood crumbles on the floor.

I get called over to a desk. "Fill out these papers." A desk attendant says in a kind tone. I take the papers. Name. Age. Height. Pronouns. Sexuality. Other conditions. Blah Blah Blah. I fill out the papers. 2 lines for phone numbers. I don't have anyone to contact. I get up and give them back to her. As she looks over them I see that girl walk into a room with other people.

She doesn't talk to anyone just goes to sit in a chair. No one talks to her. Is she that scary? She doesn't look that scary. I get called over to the desk again. "Follow us." 2 female nurses take me to a room and close the blinds. They have me take off my clothes.

I don't care. They write some notes. They are marking how many marks I have on my body. My scars. All of them. They give me underclothes and I put them on. They tell me to put my arms to my sides and then extend them up. I do as told and they take photos of my arms, legs, stomach, chest, neck. Everywhere I have cuts.

They give me paper hospital clothes. I put them on and walk out behind them. They bagged my clothes. It's evidence. They hand me more stuff. Toothbrush, pillow, pamphlet, shampoo, conditioner, lotion, and a bar of soap. "Towels are in the bathroom." A nurse says.

They take me down a hall that is a dead end. "Room A-14. Shower and then go to the day room down the hall. No hanging out in the hallway. No food in the day room." She explains more and I nod. I step into the bathroom. A curtain for a door. I take off my clothes once again and step into the shower.

I push a button. Warm water flows out and stops every 2 minutes. I wash up and was my hair. I step out and dry up. I put my clothes back on. I step out and into my room. The girl is in my room. "Who are you?" She asks. "Uh my name is Ana. Who are you?" She smiles

"My name is Jay. I'm your roommate." "Oh ok. Uh, what are your pronouns?" I ask to make sure I don't misgender anyone. "They/them." "Ok." I say they ask for mine in return. "She/her." "Are you a lesbian?" They ask. "Uh yea why do I look that gay to you?" I ask, flashing my smile. "Yep."

"Ok. Are you?" I ask, they look like the type to be into girls. "Yes." They say and smile at me. Awkward silence. "What are you here for?" I ask, curious to learn more about this person. "Suicide attempts." "Oh fun." I say, not like that hasn't crossed my mind more than a few times.

"What about you, why are you here?" They ask with a slight tilt to their head. "I killed my mom."